Everybody Hurts Sometimes
by EnglandCJP
Summary: Set in Dublin after Niall's revenge on the McQueen family and after Craig's trip away with Steph. John Paul is remote and lost and Craig has his own insecurities to battle. T to start with, maybe becoming M in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Everybody Hurts Sometimes**

Exhausted, Craig twisted the key in the lock, before pushing the door open with his shoulder. Taking a deep breath he entered the flat, unsure what his reception was going to be. He had called John Paul from the airport to say what time he would be back but whether he would be here waiting for him was anyone's guess, although if the last month was anything to go by...probably not. Suddenly, the lateness of the hour and his growing sense of despair seemed to make all his aches and pains seem ten times worse, and the padded dressing on his cheek now seemed to irritate more than give comfort to the broken skin beneath.

The flat was in darkness and the silence that greeted him seemed to tell its own story. Sighing, he dropped his bag on the floor as he let the door close behind him. Leaning back against the solid wooden panel he closed his eyes in defeat. Whether John Paul was asleep or had just not bothered to come back in yet, hardly seemed to matter, what screamed out to him was that for whatever reason he just wasn't where he needed him to be right now.

Feeling empty, he let his mind drift back to the phone call they had shared earlier. It had been short, slightly detached, as if neither had the energy to force the barriers that sat between them. He had been deliberately vague about his week away with Steph, wanting to share the news about Niall face to face, whilst John Paul just seemed unresponsive...distant. Rubbing his face with his hands he tried to hang on to some semblance of hope.

Hurting inside and out, he forced himself to move, being drawn to the small kitchen. Opening the fridge he pulled out the half empty carton of orange juice, needing something to take the edge off the rawness in his throat. Not bothering with a glass, he twisted off the top as he kicked the fridge door shut. Walking into the room, he allowed the shadows to sooth him as he tilted back his head to swallow greedily. The slight movement in front of him, made him choke, causing the liquid to splash down his chin, as his heart jumped.

"For fuck's sake, John Paul...you could have bloody warned me you were here."

The man who stood by the window never turned his head, didn't acknowledge the words sent his way, other than to give a slight shrug of his shoulders. His eyes continued to gaze at the lights of the city as he held on tightly to the almost empty bottle of spirits that rested against his thigh. His body slumped against the glass pane as if in need of support.

Craig let his eyes take in the room, noticing the empty cans and discarded bottles for the first time. Carefully he picked his way through the mess to go and stand at the opposite side of the window, his eyes taking in the same view as his lover. The familiar sight before him blurred as he blinked back tears.

"John Paul, we need to talk." Craig was surprised at how steady his voice sounded, not reflecting his inner turmoil. Glancing over to where the other stood, he watched sadly as the bottle John Paul held was lifted, its contents being swallowed neat, in what seemed like an act of defiance... a fuck you statement. Only then did John Paul turn to him, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot.

The lack of expression in them, made Craig want to shrivel up and die. They made him feel like he was nothing. Knowing from recent experience that any conversation right now was pointless, he went to turn away, just wanting to be somewhere where he could still pretend that he could still reach the man who held his heart. John Paul's sudden gasp held him in place as the walls that were keeping him out suddenly shattered and the blue eyes in front of him blazed with a light that was frightening in its intensity.

"What the fuck happened to you?" The words were raw, full of a desperate kind of pain, Craig could only guess at. Shakily John Paul reached a hand out towards him, to almost touch his face before he let it drop away as if afraid to make contact.

"I..." Suddenly Craig was at a loss, all his prepared explanations gone. How the hell did he answer? "John Paul, I...Shit!..." Rubbing the back of his neck, he stumbled to find a place to start. He needed to get this right. The man at his side was already near to breaking and he'd be damned if he finished what Niall had started. "It was Steph... he came after her...he..."

The body in front of him tensed, the now empty bottle crashing to the floor, as Craig suddenly found himself pushed back against the wall, his bruised ribs from where Niall's fists had connected, crying out in protest. Unable to stop himself, Craig gasped as the pain took his breath away.

If it was possible John Paul became more ashen, his skin taking on a sickly shade of grey. Without taking his eyes away from the brown ones in front of him, he began to slowly unbutton Craig's shirt, the alcohol in his system making him clumsy, his fear making him gentle. Peeling it open, he finally allowed his gaze to drop to what his shaking hands had revealed. Seeing the thin layer of white bandage which lay beneath, and looking even lower to the grazes and bruising that spread out across the skin left exposed, John Paul felt his world start to spin out of control.

Already knowing the answer deep in his soul, wanting to throw up, he still had to ask. "Who?" His voice was cloaked in fear.

Unable to drag his eyes away from John Paul's face, Craig gave him the one answer he wished with all his heart he could avoid. "Niall...It was Niall."

As if the ground beneath him had shifted, John Paul's legs buckled and he sank down to his knees, as he began to retch, his stomach finally rejecting the amount of alcohol he had consumed, just as his mind fought to reject the images which that one name could conjure. As he began to throw up, he was once again holding Keiran's lifeless body, he was once more held bound and helpless, could hear Niall's voice telling him what he'd taken from him as his head was pulled back by his hair, whispering insidiously to him what he was still going to take. He could hear the explosion, the screams, the silence... and then he was once again seeing Tina being carried from the ruins of the church, one arm hanging limply at her side. All images and sounds he lived with daily but refused to acknowledge, refused to share with the one person who was keeping him from giving up, even if he didn't realise it. Feeling Craig at his side, his hand gently rubbing his back, his body finally settled into silent sobs.

"The bastard...He wasn't ...supposed to ever...touch you." The words were whispered, meant for no-one to hear, and they made Craig want to cry with him.

His heart in pieces, Craig took John Paul in his arms, rocking him like a baby as he tried to absorb some of the pain.

"All of this..." John Paul's hands swept the room as his voice became louder, angrier, "Everything I've put us through...shutting you out...All the nights I..." Suddenly, Craig found himself pushed away, as if John Paul couldn't bear to touch him. "He wasn't supposed to...I never wanted him to get to you too. He took so much from me... I wanted to keep you separate, keep what we had away from the destruction he generated...and now... "

"John Paul, listen to me." Taking hold of the other's face, Craig held on for dear life, determined he wasn't going to lose this man now. "It's over...Niall's dead...He can't hurt you any more."

John Paul looked at him, his eyes lifeless. "It doesn't matter...I've already lost everything that mattered!"

**~~Chapter 2~~**

Trying to ignore the dull pounding behind his eyes and the sick feeling in the pit of the stomach, Craig made a start on cleaning up some of the mess in the room, needing something to distract him from his thoughts. Half aware of the sound of the shower being switched on he tried not to think about John Paul's final words to him moments before, or what they meant, as he scooped up some of the empty cans. But the words wouldn't go away. What the fuck did he mean he'd already lost everything that mattered? A cold fear was clawing its way through his gut. Not wanting to face it or acknowledge his growing insecurity, he tried desperately to keep a name at bay...guilt and self loathing battling with a shameful jealousy he couldn't control.

Kieran.

Cursing softly, he began to scrub the carpet where John Paul had thrown up, taking a strange comfort in doing something so mundane, at being able to focus on anything other than a growing sense of defeat. How the hell could he fight what Niall had done? How did he give back to John Paul all that had been taken from him? Again that name swam in his mind, this time bringing an image of a handsome face with it. How the fuck did you fight a ghost?

'_I've already lost everything that mattered!'_

Giving the carpet a final swipe, he threw the used cloth into the black bag at his side. His presence in John Paul's life didn't seem to count for much right now, despite the fact that he was still here for the taking, heart in his fucking hands. He obviously wasn't part of John Paul's 'everything that mattered'.

Ashamed of his pathetic self pity, he stood up, wincing at the pull to his aching muscles. Grabbing the bag, he tied the ends, before leaving it near the door to take out in the morning. He looked down at his watch, 2.30 am. It was only then that he realised how long John Paul was taking, that the shower was still running. He was such a selfish bastard, revelling in his own pain when the man he loved more than life itself was falling to pieces in front of him. Suddenly anxious he strode to the bathroom.

"John Paul?"

His voice tried to reach through the closed door, to be louder than the pouring water. Getting no reply he pushed against the handle hoping it wasn't locked. Feeling the door give he quietly stepped inside, unsure what he would find...unsure of his welcome.

At first he could see no sign of him, with the steam from the hot water mixing with the condensation on the glass panel of the shower cubical. It was only when he stepped closer that he saw the huddled shape, sat naked on the tiles, arms clasped round his knees as water cascaded down on his bent head.

"John Paul?"

This time, although softer, the words seemed to reach him, or maybe it was just that he sensed he was no longer alone. Slowly his head lifted and Craig found himself drowning in blue eyes. But now he almost wished the barriers were still there, that he was unable to see the soul wrenching pain, but the thought was fleeting as instinct took over. Without hesitation, he kicked off his trainers and stepped into the shower, forgetting bandages, not caring that he was fully clothed, just knowing he needed to be by John Paul's side. Sinking down he mirrored the other's position, never taking his eyes from John Paul's face. Not touching the body next to him, he let the water pour over him, blurring his vision slightly, as it plastered his hair against his head, wet the padding on his cheek, and stuck his clothes close against his body.

"You're crazy."

"I know."

John Paul let his head fall back against the wall. The slight shift in his position brought their shoulders together. It wasn't much but strangely it was enough.

Just for a while, there was that feeling of them against the world again, the old connection that they had established from the moment they had first met. Almost Craig smiled. Shit... how could he ever give up on this? John Paul wasn't just his heart, he was his whole world. Wanting to wrap him in his arms, to never let him go, he hesitated, held back, sensing a need to take this slow. Instead he gave him a soft nudge, a reminder that he wasn't in this alone.

"You thinking of staying in here all night?" The deliberately light tone failed to mask his concern.

Slowly John Paul turned his head to face him, his expression unreadable. For a while his eyes just took him in as if weighing something up. "I didn't want to be out there where you were."

And just like that, pain ripped through Craig's chest. He tried to breathe but fuck it hurt, just like the words hurt. He stiffened as the now cooling water continued to pound his body. Each drop suddenly seemed to strike his skin with force, to weigh him down. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, he wanted to hit back...to wound like he was being wounded. Instead he did nothing...nothing but die a little more inside.

Aware that he was still being watched he refused to give into the gut wrenching despair of knowing he was losing John Paul; of somehow feeling like this was the start of a long goodbye. Instead he clung on to the remnants of his pride and refused to look away.

The feel of John Paul's fingers sneaking through his own shocked him, the grip painful, desperate. Now he did look down, wishing he felt some comfort from the gesture. But all he felt was fear.

"I don't want to be with you..." The words sounded flat. "...because I'm going to hurt you...and it's going to kill me."

Craig raised his eyes back up quickly, his breath hitching, but already John Paul was standing, moving away. Even now Craig couldn't help but take in the beauty of his body as he stepped from the shower, every inch of it as familiar to him as his own.

"But you're right, Craig...we do need to talk." Without looking back, John Paul reached for a towel, wrapping it carelessly around his hips before leaving Craig alone in the bathroom.

Still unable to move, Craig let the tears come as the temperature of water finally matched the coldness trying to invade his heart. Now it was him that wanted to hide, him that didn't want to talk. Looking down, he once again saw John Paul's fingers sliding between his own and his hand curled inwards automatically as if he could still feel them there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 3**

Stepping Into the room, still rubbing his damp hair with a towel, Craig let his gaze briefly run over John Paul as he sat on the edge of the sofa. Taking in his bare torso and the low hanging jeans he fought the tightening of his stomach. It had been far too long since he'd held him, far too long since he'd run his hands over his skin and far too long since he'd buried himself inside the warmth of his body. Throwing the towel casually over the back of a chair, he half heartedly ran his fingers through wayward strands of his hair, trying to bring some semblance of order to the longer style he now favoured. Not knowing what to expect after what had just been said in the shower, he tried to calm his erratic emotions.

Unsure whether to remain standing or to sit beside John Paul, he finally settled for sinking carefully down on the floor opposite him with his back to the wall, not really caring that the movement caused his T-Shirt to ride up slightly. Having taken off his ruined bandages he was far more concerned about supporting his bruised ribs than how much skin he was revealing. Hearing a soft gasp, he quickly raised his eyes to almost lose himself in those of achingly familiar blue. Despite the serious, haunted expression on the other's face, Craig was almost sure he saw just the hint of a blush colouring his cheeks. Maybe it wasn't just him that had missed the intimacy. Feeling the growing tension, the growing awareness, he shifted slightly to alleviate the sudden tightness in his groin, covered only by the cotton boxers he had quickly pulled on. The movement drew John Paul's eyes lower and for a moment Craig held his breath at the expression he could see there. Feeling his cock twitch in response to the intense scrutiny it was under, it was all he could do to stay seated where he was and not go and drag John Paul to the bedroom and screw the consequences.

As if aware of how close the sexual tension was to igniting, John Paul once again withdrew, hiding behind shuttered eyes before finally speaking. "So the bruises and cuts and everything..." His slightly husky voice was the only indication that he wasn't quite as in control as he wanted to be. "You're okay, right?"

Wanting badly to kiss him, Craig gave a small smile instead as he nodded his head. "I'm getting there. I'm just glad to be home." He watched as John Paul almost seemed to flinch before his gaze settled on the cut on his cheekbone, uncovered for the first time. "It looks worse than it is, John Paul."

"I can't believe..." John Paul's breathing suddenly seemed forced. "I need to know what happened...what he did...How he..." His voice broke.

Craig let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes. To be honest all he wanted was to wrap himself in John Paul's arms, to forget everything that had been said earlier, to forget everything that was wrong between them. But deep down, he knew that John Paul needed this discussion more.

Taking a steadying breath he reluctantly allowed his thoughts to travel back, to replay images that had invaded his sleep over the last few days, nightmares that he'd hoped to banish once he was back in Dublin. It was all he'd hung on to...getting back to the one person who he knew could make everything right. Now he was just scared that nothing would ever be right again.

"We think he watched us, God knows how long for." He gave a bitter laugh. "We made it easy for him, isolated location, no mobile signal...He just walked right fucking in." He swallowed hard, his fingers automatically going up to touch his bruised face. "I never even suspected he was in the house until he..." He paused, opening his eyes slowly to stare up at the ceiling. He couldn't look at John Paul, still hating the shame of being made to feel totally helpless. His voice shook slightly as he forced himself to go on, his air of vulnerability making his beauty seem almost fragile in the early morning light. John Paul's heart ached at the sight of him. Struggling with his feelings, he tried to focus on Craig's next words.

"Anyway, when I came round I was tied up, hands, feet...and ..." Craig was once again seeing Niall in front of him, could feel his hand as he pulled on his hair to force his head back, could feel the cold metal of the knife as it pressed against the skin of his exposed throat. His hands clenched as he felt tension invade his body. "He took Steph...and I had to just watch them go." Shaking, he tried to laugh at his own fear, at his sense of failure. "So much for looking out for my sister, for getting Niall back for what he did to you. Some hero, huh?"

"Craig, don't...None of this was your fault."

Finally lowering his gaze, Craig searched John Paul's face, almost afraid of what he'd find there but desperate to escape the darkness of his thoughts. "Do you know what it's like to be unable to do anything, to be completely at the mercy of a bastard like that?" He sounded almost lost.

"Yes."

The reply was so faint that if Craig hadn't been watching John Paul's face he would have missed it. Suddenly his own pain seemed less important as he realised how insensitive he'd just been! Of course he fucking knew! "God, John Paul, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking..."

"At least you got your sister out of there alive ...more than I did." Now it was John Paul's words that were forced, coated in bitterness.

Craig started to push himself up, needing to offer comfort, fuck the barriers but a raised hand stopped him. "Please...I can't do this if you're near me, okay?"

Hating the distance between them but knowing he had no choice, Craig sighed in frustration. Shaking his head slightly, he desperately kept his eyes locked with John Paul's wounded ones, needing to maintain some connection. At least he was finally talking to him instead of pretending that everything was fine. Now he just had to keep him talking, make him open up further.

"I know what he did to me was nothing compared to what he put you through but..." Hesitantly, Craig pushed against the walls that John Paul had built to keep him out, walls that he'd hidden himself behind for too long. "I guess I'm saying that now I can at least understand some of what you've been going though...He screwed with your head, threatened everyone you loved the most...took Tina from you." He could see John Paul was struggling to maintain his composure and the look of panic in his face almost made Craig pause. Knowing he was taking a risk, that his next words could backfire he forced himself to confront both of their fears and finally address the white elephant that had been living alongside them for weeks. "And you had to deal with all of that while you were still trying to come to terms with losing Kieran."

John Paul went deathly pale as he suddenly stood up, his body swaying slightly. "I can't do this." His eyes were full of a desperate anger, as he tried to avoid facing his real feelings.

Pushing himself up, Craig let his own emotions show. "We have to talk about it sometime, John Paul. If we are to stand any chance, we need to discuss what happened to you...to Kieran."

"Why the fuck would you want to talk about him? I mean what bit would you like to 'chat' about, huh?" The words were fired at him like shards of ice as John Paul stepped up close, coiled as if ready to strike. "How he was murdered because my mum fucked up, how he choked on his own vomit as Niall watched...or how we were screwing each other in my bed at the time?"

The words fell into a deathly silence broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing as both stood bodies stiff, strained.

"Well finally you had the guts to say it." Craig's eyes never waivered from John Paul's face all of his hurt plain to see. "But if you expect me to feel sorry for what we did, you'll be disappointed. I'm glad you were with me...do you hear me, you fucking dumbass?"

"And there he is...the Craig Dean we all know and love. You're such a selfish bastard." John Paul stepped even closer, his face centimetres away from Craig's. His fists were clenched at his sides. "What is it Craig, would your ego have been wounded if I hadn't chosen you before Kieran died...or maybe if I'd saved him you might have had to work a bit harder to get me when you realised how much I actually loved him...Is that it?"

Craig shut down. His whole emotions just froze. Looking at John Paul's fists he wished he'd used them on him instead of the barrage of words. He felt as if something deep inside him had just shattered. Utterly defeated, he gave John Paul a twisted mockery of a smile.

"Of course that's it, John Paul...You got it in one, being as you know me so well." Turning his back, he forced his limbs to move, dropping down onto the sofa, sinking into its softness as if he might disappear. His voice became quieter as if the effort of talking was suddenly too much. "You're an idiot if you think you could have saved him." He felt John Paul's shock but no longer cared. He just felt numb. "Do you really think that Niall would have just let you walk out of that flat if you'd have got there earlier? Kieran's fate was sealed the minute he found out who Niall was, yours would have been too. So excuse me for taking some comfort in the fact that us 'screwing' as you so nicely put it kept you safe."

Looking up, Craig was surprised to see a look of absolute devastation on John Paul's face. Not sure what had caused the pain to break through the anger, he watched with an eerie sense of detachment as he sank down next to him, not close enough to touch but close enough that Craig could hear as he released a long drawn out breath. Both sat staring at the floor, unmoving, as the stillness of the room settled about them both. Somehow it was like a truce had been called in a battle neither had wanted, neither had the stomach for.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said..." John Paul's words were as wounded and defeated as his own had been.

Craig shrugged, not really having the energy to react. However, John Paul's next words made his head turn, made him realise that his heart wasn't quite as numb as he'd thought.

"I'm hurting you because I can't live with the choices I made. How pathetic is that? I didn't even go to my own sister's funeral...and I called you selfish." He laughed, a bitter sound. "I only thought about myself, how I was feeling...about..." There was a pause. "About getting back to you." For a split second his eyes lifted and Craig's breath caught in his throat with the intensity of the look. But the moment was broken before it really began, leaving him missing something that hadn't been his for a while. "And as for Kieran...I shouldn't have been with you..."

Before Craig could feel any pain at the gut wrenching honesty, he hung onto the next words like a drowning man thrown a life line. "...Not then anyway, not like that. I should have ended things properly with Kieran before sleeping with you. I should have been honest with everyone before it got that far. Even if I couldn't have saved him...I could have at least given him that." John Paul's breathing was suddenly ragged, desperate and this time Craig reached for him. It was instinctive. His arm went round John Paul's shoulders, pulling him close as his words continued to flow, seemingly unstoppable now. "Because I knew, Craig...I knew from the moment I saw you again." He laughed tiredly. "That's still a lie...I always knew it was you... I never stopped knowing who I had to be with. And now...shit, what a mess!"

"Shhhh. John Paul, it's going to be fine. Me and you, we're still here aren't we?"

Almost, John Paul allowed himself to sink into Craig, to take comfort, to breathe him in. But he wasn't finished yet; Pandora's Box still lay open in front of him. For a moment he was tempted to let things be, to finally believe that they could move forward. He could feel the warmth of Craig's skin where it brushed against his own, could feel his breath on the side of his neck as he softly exhaled and he knew if he just turned slightly that their mouths would meet. He could feel the temptation sneaking through his stomach, making him ache with need. He loved him, he'd always loved him...for once couldn't that be enough? His lips parted but instead of turning to find Craig's, he released the words he desperately wanted to keep inside.

"You were right to be pissed off with me about what I said." Sensing Craig's confusion, he almost smiled. "We didn't screw each other that night...we've never screwed each other. How could we? Our hearts always got in the way. Maybe if we had...maybe if I could just have loved you less..." He swallowed hard to keep the bile down. "Then maybe I could have come home at nights, could have lost myself in empty sex with you, rather than staying out so often."

Craig stiffened, his whole body fighting the message John Paul's words seemed to be throwing at him. His arm fell uselessly back to his side as his body started to shake. "You...I..." A coldness was seeping through his chest.

"You don't get it do you? I was lost...and I wanted to stay that way. But fuck, every time I looked at you I was there. I was always in your fucking eyes. So I stopped looking. I wanted to hurt, I wanted to punish myself...I wanted to destroy everything I had left...to finish off what Niall had started. Why should Kieran and Tina have to pay with their lives, whilst I still had... you? So I tried to push you away...but you wouldn't go...so I...I..." His words disappeared into a sickening silence.

Tying to hold on to the contents of his stomach, Craig swallowed hard. Everything seemed out of focus, as if he was staring at the room through a long tunnel. "What the fuck is this? What the fuck did you do?" He hardly recognised his own voice as he watched as John Paul seemed to gather himself, pulling his head up high before turning to him with a face devoid of any feeling.

"I went with someone from the club, back to their flat...and I...I tried for the meaningless sex that I couldn't have with you." John Paul's laugh sounded cruel, almost mocking, until Craig looked and found the truth in his eyes. "I was drunk and I was empty...and now... "

Needing space, Craig got to his feet, backing away as John Paul stood up too.

"And now you know why I didn't want to come out of the shower." Hardly aware that he was crying, John Paul swiped angrily at the tears. "This is me hurting you... and it's fucking killing me."

Even as the meaning of John Paul's words tore into him, something was screaming at Craig to not let go of what they had, to hang on to it for all he was worth. Something deep inside him was battling the ice seeping through his veins, pushing against the anger that was trying to ignite. He could almost taste hatred but John Paul's words about always seeing himself in his eyes, were holding it at bay because Craig knew it was true...knew that, even now, if he looked into John Paul's eyes, he would see himself there too ...and suddenly, despite everything that had been said...despite everything that still needed to be said, there was only one thing that seemed to matter, only one question he wanted to ask.

"When you said you'd lost everything that mattered to you...did you mean Kieran?"

He knew his question had taken John Paul by surprise, wasn't what he'd been expecting. With heartbreaking honesty, John Paul gave him back the only thing he had left.

"I meant you...My everything has always been you."

For a moment there was a flicker of hope as John Paul watched an expression of relief flit across Craig's face but any other thoughts were lost as without warning a fist smashed into his jaw, leaving him sprawled on the floor, lip bleeding. Shocked, he stared up at the man glaring down at him. "Jesus, Craig!"

"And this time I'm not sorry." Watching as John Paul gingerly moved his jaw side to side, Craig knew the meaning of his words hadn't been lost on the other, when he saw a fleeting half smile cross his swollen mouth.

"So does this mean I don't get to punch you back this time?" Receiving another glower for his efforts, John Paul got tentatively to his feet, his hand held out in submission before he became serious again.

"Craig...I...What I said before..."

"Did you sleep with him?" Craig's eyes narrowed, something primitive and dangerous eating away at him.

John Paul didn't try to hide, he'd done too much of that already. "No...but I nearly did...I wanted to." Hearing Craig's sharply indrawn breath he forced himself to go on. "I think I wanted to do the one thing I knew you could never forgive me for...that I could never forgive myself for. I let him kiss me...touch me...but fuck you were there...in my head, in my heart...and I couldn't. I hated myself enough to destroy me...but I loved you too much to do that to you."

The second punch was to his stomach, not as hard but enough to steal his breath. So he was defenceless when two hands pushed him hard, slamming him into the wall, holding him there. Brown eyes seared him, taking away the little bit of oxygen he had left.

"You ever so much as look at anyone again and I swear I'll hang your balls out to dry."

Any reply John Paul might have given was lost as his mouth was captured in a kiss full of heat and anger and a toe curling possession. The grip he was held in was punishing, his split lip was throbbing...and never had he felt so alive, never had anything tasted so good.

Never had he loved Craig Dean more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 4**

Forcing his tongue deep into John Paul's mouth, Craig directed all the anger he felt into the kiss. He hurt and he needed an outlet for his anger. He could feel the sting of betrayal in the pit of his stomach, in the beat of his heart, in every breath he took. How could John Paul have been so fucking stupid, to risk it all for a quick grope in the dark! He didn't care how lost he'd been. He was his. He had always been his!

He used the weight of his body to lean in even more, ignoring the pull on his ribs. Just to taste him again was feeding the fever he could feel coursing through his veins. He vaguely heard a soft whimper but was beyond caring whether it was released through pleasure or pain as his tongue raged a battle for dominance. His hands moved up to roughly grab blonde hair, forcibly tilting John Paul's head back, to allow even more access as his tongue pushed deeper with a primate need to reclaim and possess.

It was only the slightly metallic taste of blood that made him draw breath and pause.

Pulling back slightly, he lowered his eyes to the swollen cut his fist had caused, that his punishing kiss had now opened up again. Swallowing, he lifted his gaze until he captured John Paul's eyes. Liking the slightly dazed expression he found there, he gave him an almost cruel smile. He wanted him to feel unsure. Not taking his eyes from him, he deliberately reached out with his tongue to seductively tease the wound. The satisfying sound of John Paul's gasp as he became aware of what he was doing went straight to his already aching cock.

Knowing he had John Paul's complete attention, he nipped sharply on the sensitive skin.

"What the fuck...Craig?" The hint of pain in the husky reprimand only heightened the palpable tension between them. Satisfied by the other's confusion, Craig moved on, his attention now focussing on the pulse that beat erratically at the side of John Paul's neck. Once again he reached out, his tongue carelessly circling the throbbing skin. This time, the "Oh God" he heard was whispered.

Laughing softly he leaned forward, his mouth brushing against the delicate skin of John Paul's ear, his words taunting. "Mindless sex, huh, John Paul?" Pressing his body closer, he let the hardness of his arousal brush tellingly against the swelling he could feel between John Paul's thighs. "You really think I can't just screw you?" Realising where this was going, John Paul pushed hard against his hold, only to be forced into stillness as Craig brought one hand down to gently squeeze his erection.

"Holy fuck!" John Paul couldn't help himself as his hips rocked forwards trying to deepen the contact.

"You like that, baby?" The words were a challenge, almost insulting, as his hand squeezed him again.

John Paul tried to breathe, his mouth dry. Off balance, he searched Craig's face, not surprised to see remnants of a lingering anger in his eyes. Knowing Craig was unpredictable in this mood, he felt hesitant, unsure how to handle him. Being caressed so intimately wasn't helping his thought process. Jesus, he'd expected to lose him, to be thrown out when he'd confessed what he'd done...what he hadn't expected was this! Already reeling, Craig's next words floored him.

"How lost do you feel now, McQueen? Lost enough to fuck without all that emotional crap?"Craig watched his words slowly sink in, taking a perverse pleasure in causing pain. Knowing he was in control he let his eyes deliberately travel down the body he held pinned against the wall, loving the shiver of desire John Paul couldn't disguise. Taking his time he reached for the zip that was denying him the skin to skin contact he craved. Letting his hand slip inside, he suddenly raised his eyebrows mockingly, as the lack of any other clothing registered. "Going commando suits you." Giving John Paul a wicked grin he let his fingers brush lightly against the straining cock he now had access to.

Shit!

Unable to help himself, John Paul began to moan softly as he was tormented with soft strokes. He could feel Craig's eyes on him and he had to fight to stop himself begging for more. He'd missed this, he'd missed Craig and he had no defence against the onslaught. His head fell back as his hips began to match the rhythm of Craig's hand.

"Did it feel this good when 'he' touched you?"

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! John Paul suddenly felt exposed, defenceless. He tried to draw back but he had nowhere to go. Pushing at Craig's hand he tried to disengage himself from his fingers, needing to think, but the dark, narrow look sent his way stopped him. Cursing softly he prayed he got his response right.

Fighting his own arousal, he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. How the hell did he react to this? He had hurt the one person he most wanted to protect, the one person he knew he couldn't live without...and despite the intimate way he was being caressed, he knew he could lose him here. Nervously he lifted a shaky hand to touch Craig's face, his thumb brushing softly against his bruised cheek. "Hey." One word, whispered, vulnerable. Yet it held everything. All he wanted to say but couldn't, all of his regret, all of his love. For a moment he felt Craig falter, as instinctively his head moved towards the gentle caress. "No-one ever makes me feel like this, okay...only you. This part of me is yours." For a moment he had him. Moving slowly forward, John Paul parted his lips, needing to kiss him, needing to show him with actions that they were so much more than just sex.

Craig watched the mouth moving towards his own, John Paul's words echoing in his mind. It worked both ways. It always had. But right now the words only fuelled the frustration he felt. Hating himself but unable to stop, he ruthlessly shattered the moment. Deliberately he trailed his fingers once more along the cock that was as familiar to him as his own, before shifting without warning to firmly squeeze the balls beneath. John Paul caught his breath in shock.

"And still you went elsewhere" He squeezed his hand again, making John Paul rise up slightly. "So maybe we should still fuck each other's brains out with no feelings involved, so you know where you can run to next time you want to throw everything away."

Almost John Paul smiled. Was he crazy? No feelings? There was enough emotion between them to drown in. However, now was not the time to argue the point. Aware of the precarious position he was in, all he could do was wait, breathing heavily.

"Come on, John Paul, you can do this?"

For a split second, the arrogant confidence made John Paul narrow his own eyes, mimicking Craig's look from moments ago. There were only so many times he could say sorry. Yet he could still hear the pain hidden beneath the deliberate taunts. Knowing how badly he'd hurt him, John Paul fought to keep his voice steady. "Craig, stop it."

The only response was a hot look and a grin that made his stomach muscles clench. This time when his mouth was captured, it was pure seduction, Craig's tongue exploring him at will, brushing aside any resistance with insulting ease. His hands lifted to hold his face captive, his thumbs stroking along his jaw line, in a move that was pure Craig Dean. How the hell could he resist that?

Craig, knew the exact moment he had him. He felt the soft release of air into his own mouth, felt his body relax into his. Not breaking the kiss he began to move them backwards, one of his hands now on the waistband of John Paul's jeans, dragging him towards the bedroom.

Reaching their destination, still locked together at the mouth, Craig twisted them around so that John Paul's back was towards the bed. Only then did he lift his head, his eyes cloudy with desire.

"I want to fuck you so bad." The look on John Paul's face was priceless as without warning he was pushed back to fall helplessly on top of the mattress. "Stay. "Staring down at him, Craig could see his indecision. "I mean it John Paul, we do this my way!"

Seeing the stubborn look he knew so well, John Paul slowly let his arms fall uselessly onto the bed. As Craig's eyes travelled his body he couldn't help but writhe in response to the heat he could see in them. When they came to rest on his groin, an involuntary sound was ripped from his throat, making him blush with embarrassment.

His hips instinctively rose up off the mattress, his cock begging for attention, giving Craig the advantage he needed. Reaching out he unfastened the top button of the already unzipped jeans and in one swift movement pulled them down and off his feet. With him wearing nothing underneath, his cock was left totally exposed, straining proudly in front of him. For a second their eyes clashed before without warning, Craig lowered his mouth, taking almost his whole length in one go.

Jesus. He couldn't help the mewling sounds as he thrust deeper into the moist warmth that had captured him. Craig's hands went to his hips holding him still as his tongue began to drive him wild, the mixture of suction and soft swirling flicks making him cry out. He could feel himself tense as he came closer to the edge. Shit, not like this. Just when he thought he couldn't hold on anymore, Craig released him. Floundering, he could only lie there, gasping for air, his only consolation being that Craig looked as dazed as he felt.

"So how do you want to do this? Front or back?"

Fuck, he so wasn't giving up on this. "Craig...look at me. Please." John Paul's voice sounded broken but he no longer cared.

"This is just sex, John Paul." Trying to believe his own words, Craig stood, reaching for the bottom of his T Shirt and began to lift it. Now it was his turn to feel exposed as he knew the thin cotton of his boxers did nothing to hide his own state of arousal.

"You sure about that?" John Paul fought with everything he had. Part of him was screaming out for what was being offered, to be taken hard and fast, but this was about more than sexual satisfaction, this was about healing something that he had almost destroyed. "Can it ever just be sex between us?"

Craig glared as he pulled his top over his head, flinging it away, only to be almost stopped in his tracks by the look of desperation on John Paul's face. Jesus. He was pissed off with him but did he really want to push it this far. He was so fucking beautiful, laid out, vulnerable. But he was hurting too. There were shadows still in his eyes that Craig had forgotten in his frustration. Not wanting to acknowledge the feelings that were threatening to swamp him, he angrily shucked off his last remaining item of clothing, no longer sure who the anger was directed at.

Standing naked, he heard the indrawn breath that John Paul couldn't control, as his boxers joined his T-Shirt on the floor. Craig felt himself turning red. Not sure about anything anymore, he moved forward to straddle the body stretched out before him. God! As he settled against him, the touch of John Paul's skin felt like fire where it brushed against the muscles of his inner thighs. His cock twitched as his stomach tightened. Determined not to think, his forced his fingers to make teasing stokes across John Paul's chest, before finding and roughly playing with taut nipples. Ignoring the pleading looks that were being sent his way, he leaned carefully down, protecting his own bruises, as he captured pale skin in his teeth, beginning to nip and then sooth with a gentle sucking motion. Loving John Paul's flavour a little too much for comfort, he forced himself back to settle between John Paul's legs.

"I love you."

The words made him stiffen, made his whole body freeze. His heart kicked inside his chest as his eyes closed. The bastard! The fucking bastard! Time seemed to stand still.

Finally, he felt rather than saw John Paul move, one of his hands reaching to gently cup his head as he sat up, fingers brushing through his hair in a soothing motion. Craig's brain was screaming at him to make him stop, to say something cutting.

"I really love you."

Another arm reached around, encircling him, bringing them closer together. Hips aligned, Craig was aware of his own erection brushing against John Paul's as he was cradled against the strength of the other's chest.

"I hate you." Craig's own words were like a whispered caress.

The quick kiss to the top of his head was all kinds of familiar. The quiet "I know," brought a reluctant smile to Craig's lips.

"I really do fucking hate you." The words were accompanied by a slow rotation of his hips that again caused their cocks to clash gently against each other.

The laughter that met his words was pure relief as the arms around him tightened as if they would never let him go. And then their eyes met...

And Craig knew he'd finally come home.

Careful not to spoil the moment, John Paul's voice was soft as his hand brushed slowly down Craig's spine. "Do you hate me enough to make love to me?" The question came with a smile but Craig knew how much was really being asked. He could still feel a tension in the body beside his own. This was about forgiveness.

Craig moved his mouth a fraction closer, wanting badly to kiss him. "Are you back...I mean truely back?"

There was no mistaking the meaning and John Paul suddenly had to fight tears. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he nodded. "Yeah, you've got me."

Craig crashed their mouths together but this time the need to possess was softened by the love he no longer wanted to deny. He couldn't seem to get enough, he wanted John Paul's breath, wanted his flavour on his tongue, wanted to capture the very essence that made him unique.

"Can you feel it?" John Paul's words were almost lost beneath duelling tongues.

Slightly dazed Craig opened his eyes to find himself looking into the blue heat that was John Paul, their faces so close that their noses brushed. Trying to clear his head, he let his confusion show.

"Feel what?"

John Paul lifted one hand slipping it between their bodies to place it purposefully where a steady beat could be felt beneath smooth skin. "This...the reason why me and you could never just fuck...The sound of our hearts getting in the way."

Craig dipped his head for a moment as he recalled the words from earlier. Trying to steady his emotions, he felt John Paul's forehead come to rest against his own. God he loved him. He felt the hand above his heart move slowly down between their bodies to take hold of their erections where they rested together. Groaning softly, Craig felt desire hot and urgent course through him.

"John Paul McQueen..." Oh God, his hand was killing him. "I get it, I really do... but now will you please shut the fuck up and screw m..."

The hand stroking him stopped. John Paul moved back slightly. Craig looked up, his cock desperate for his touch, to see eyebrows raised meaningfully in his direction. Biting his lip he tried to stop himself from grinning.

Rolling his eyes he tried again."John Paul McQueen... will you please shut the fuck up and love me for Christ's sake." The heated look he got in response, made him moan out loud as he was wrestled down gently onto the bed, their limbs flailing until they came to rest wrapped around each other.

Pulling Craig's head closer, John Paul gave him a crooked smile that made his stomach flip and his cock ache. "Jesus, I thought you'd never ask."


	4. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Why the hell are we still awake?" John Paul's words were soft, seeming to match the mood in the room as the muted greys of the early morning light crept through the window.

Craig shrugged, as he fought a yawn, happy to just lay his head back against the shoulder behind him. Feeling John Paul's arms tighten around his waist, he smiled as he shifted to get even more comfortable, loving how John Paul's chin came to rest on his own shoulder as he held him securely between his thighs.

Content, he let his mind drift, reliving the way John Paul's body had felt beneath his just a short while ago, as he had slowly plunged his cock into the tight heat of his ass. He could still hear the broken sounds he'd made as he repeatedly stroked the sensitive spot buried deep inside him and could still see his soft blush as he came quickly that first time. His already over stimulated body hadn't stood a chance of lasting longer and he had taken Craig with him as his contracting muscles had shamelessly milked his own desperate erection.

The second time had been different. Never let it be said they didn't know how to negotiate peace terms. It was only fair that after he'd taken his own 'spoils of war' that John Paul got to do the same, the slight soreness Craig could still feel was testament to how thorough he'd been. His thoughts had him shifting slightly in John Paul's arms, as his cock began to respond to the images in his head. It didn't help that he knew he was being watched.

"God, you're insatiable."

John Paul's over the top groan made him laugh. "Don't worry you're safe, my ribs are aching too much from your over enthusiastic pounding earlier."

"I do not pound!" His voice was a whine that just made Craig laugh more.

"Tell that to my ass!"

John Paul choked...literally. Seeing the smug look on Craig's face he glared at him before retaliating in the best way he knew how. Using one arm to keep him in place he let his other hand begin to roam, tickling all his most sensitive places.

"John Paul...stop it...Urggghhh. You know I hate it...Stop it!"

"Tell me I didn't pound your ass." He continued the torture as Craig tried to squirm away.

"Fuck off."

Without warning Craig found himself on his back, his arms pinned to his side, totally at John Paul's mercy as he straddled his hips. Seeing his satisfied smile, Craig waited breathlessly for the torment to start again, watching as predatory eyes raked over his chest, seeking out their first point of attack. Shit, how did he get out of this without losing face? Deciding to play on his injuries, he was just about to give his best wounded look when he felt the sudden shift in mood. He saw John Paul swallow, heard him take an unsteady breath as his whole body went still and then he lifted his head.

The raw emotion in his face was mirrored by the darkening pools of his eyes. They became the colour of stormy seas and rain lashed skies and Craig had no clue what had brought about the change in him. "John Paul?" For a while there was no answer and then a hand reached out, gently feathering along the grazed, discoloured skin of his abdomen, as if the damage there was just being seen clearly for the first time.

"Oh God, Craig...I could have lost you." His fingers moved on to slowly brush against the bruises vivid above Craig's ribs, as if he hoped a mere touch could wipe them away. "I really could have fucking lost you!"

Climbing off Craig's body, John Paul flopped down to lay flat on the bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Sighing, Craig shifted to his side to look at him, propping himself up on one elbow, his head resting on his hand.

"Hey." He waited until John Paul turned his head slightly. "No more dealing with 'could haves' do you hear?" Seeing the slight shudder that John Paul couldn't hide, he punched his arm softly. "I'm here aren't I?" Reaching for one of John Paul's hands he let his fingers slip inside before bringing it back and placing it against his chest. The eyes in front of him closed for a moment before slowly lifting back to his face.

"You're different." The words were almost tentative as if they were being tested for the first time.

Craig gave him a questioning look."Different how?"

"Calmer different...more thoughtful different...I don't know, just different. You have been for a while...even before..." Suddenly finding his emotions overwhelming, John Paul forced a laugh, trying to cut through his darker thoughts. "Maybe it's the girly hair." Affectionately, he ruffled the brown strands leaving them messy and sticking out all over the place.

"Great, first you pound my ass, then call me a girl...I think I preferred you silent and moody."

The trade mark pout made John Paul's laughter turn into a groan as he took him in. Damn he was fucking gorgeous laid there, naked, mussed up hair and a mouth begging to be kissed.

"God you're easy John Paul McQueen. I swear all I have to do is batter my lashes and pout and you fucking melt...Anybody would think you loved me!" The teasing banter died on Craig's lips as once again the mood became intense. For a while they held each others gaze, their thoughts and feelings shifting, flickering unguarded, back and forth between the two of them.

Watching Craig, John Paul could feel the churning in his stomach as all the fears and insecurities from the last few weeks seemed to crowd in on him again, just the thought of losing him now scared him to death. He could feel the weight of his actions sitting heavy on his conscience .

"I'm sorry." The words slipped out to hover uncertainly between them.

Craig gave him a gentle smile. "What are you sorry for now?"

"Everything."

Recognising John Paul's anxiety, Craig fell back on the bed next to him, keeping their hands firmly in place between them, fingers still entwined. "I guess this means we still need to talk, huh?"

John Paul gave him a slightly wobbly smile. "Maybe." Seeing Craig's raised eyebrows his smile became a little more secure as he nodded his head. "Okay, yeah, we need to talk." He felt his hand being squeezed and his racing heart quietened a little at the calming look he was given. Looking back up, he watched the shadows creep further into the room, as he tried to force himself to relax. He had so much he needed to say but he didn't know where the hell to start. Things were just so delicate between them he hardly dared breathe in case he upset the balance.

But he knew he had to do this...for himself, for Craig. For a moment he allowed his eyes to rest on their joined hands and took comfort in how right they looked, how familiar they felt and he knew somehow that this was what he was fighting for, the simple right to hold on to this man for the rest of his life. His chest hurt as he dragged his eyes back to the ceiling. Tonight had been an emotional roller coaster, another one to add to the collection that marked their time together. McDean moments, Craig called them...moments that defined them. He almost smiled. Fucking stupid name! Craig had come up with it one night when they were staggering home drunk from a club, sulking for a while over the fact that he couldn't get it to sound right with his name at the front, before throwing his arm around John Paul's neck when he'd reasured him that Dean took up most of the letters making it more important.

Moments, painful, beautiful, heartbreaking moments...they had to count for something, right? Again he breathed in. He was more nervous than he'd been for a long time...and yet laid here next to Craig, both naked, both silent...there was also a sense of peace, a promise of something new. He felt he wasn't in this alone, and if could just get through this, that he would never be alone again. Now he just had to find the words. Lost in thought as he was, it was a shock when Craig took the initiative and quietly began to speak first.

"You know, I remember this one night in Scotland, when I was outside looking up at the stars... and all I could think about was whether we were going to be alright." His voice had fallen to match the soft stillness that had settled between them. "I mean what do you do when you have everything you ever thought you wanted and...and yet it still it isn't enough to make you happy?" Sensing he had John Paul's attention, Craig turned his head and let him see deep inside, holding nothing back.

John Paul felt every beat of his heart as he got lost in Craig's eyes, every breath he took seemed exaggerated as he swallowed down his fear. "And did you find your answer?" Fuck he sounded vulnerable.

"Maybe...or maybe it found me. It's funny how unimportant some things get when a knife is being held to your throat."

"Like what?" John Paul couldn't take his eyes away from him.

"Like how it didn't seem to matter right then how screwed up we were, that you were coming home later, that my pride was stung because you refused to let me in. It didn't matter who was to blame, or who loved who the most or that we were trying to box each other in and label what we were. None of that mattered in those seconds...all I cared about was seeing you again. It was that simple. It all came down to surviving to be with you." The stark honesty on Craig's face held John Paul captive. "And I realised something about happiness...it's relative...and it's not everything. Being happy doesn't define us, it's just a small part of what we are. We are all the colours of emotion, every shade. Sometimes I need to hate you just as much as I need to love you, I need to cry and hurt sometimes, just as much as I need to laugh and sometimes getting what you want is only the start of the journey." Craig took a deep breath. "But I do know now that you are my journey, John Paul McQueen and I will travel every inch of you, breath every breath with you and end up where ever it is you take me."

John Paul felt like he had been punched in the stomach. And it was the most beautiful feeling in the world. When had Craig Dean become this man? He had just given him all that he could of himself, held nothing back...and he'd found that strength from facing his own insecurities, his own fears. He'd told him that he had sensed a change in him before Scotland, before Niall. He had watched him become quieter, a little more reflective, and had known, even as he wallowed in his own despair that he was the cause of some of it. But now there was something more, it was like he had finally found himself, and was content in his own skin. He was who he was, faults and all and was making no apologies for it. Sometimes John Paul wondered if he actually realised how special he was, how much he loved him. Hesitantly he tried to give something back.

"I think...I think I need to say something ..and I know it might seem like nothing after everything you just said...but I think I need to say it anyway and that you need to hear it while we are both calm." Shuffling up, he rested back against the headboard, bringing Craig up to sit at his side, his eyes never leaving his face. "I have never loved anybody like I love you...not Spike, not...not Kieran...nobody before and nobody since...and whatever happens I know this is it for me too... you are it for me."

Craig just looked back at him, his eyes soft. "You think that's nothing, huh?" He gave him a slightly embarrassed groan. "I love that you told me that, I mean I probably shouldn't need it...but you know me...I do err...tend to get kind of possessive and jealous over you, sometimes."

"I never would have guessed." Smiling back at him, John Paul watched as his hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it distractedly as he lowered his eyes. Feeling a little uneasy he waited to see what was suddenly bothering him, feeling a sick sense of what it might be.

"Tell me about that night, John Paul." Craig seemed uncomfortable but his eyes took on a determined look. "That night...the guy you went with...the one from the club. I need you to tell me about him, about what happened."

Suddenly, John Paul felt exposed, and too...naked. He needed distance and space. He could feel Craig pulling away from him too, moving to sit up, knees tucked into his body, arms draped over them and head slightly bent. Feeling his stomach churning, John Paul got to his feet, reaching for his jeans. He felt Craig's eyes following him as he clumsily dragged them up over his hips, fastening them with shaking hands. He could feel his thoughts closing down, his throat tightening against any words he wanted to say as he moved away to lean against the door.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Craig looked at him. "Not really...but I can't...I mean...I just need to know what you did, what you gave him?"

John Paul gave a bitter laugh. "I gave him nothing of me if that's what you're asking, took nothing in return...I gave him 30 minutes of my life, fucking 30 minutes Craig and..." His words became choked and his head dipped. His breathing was rapid as his chest rose and fell.

"And?" The whispered word brought his head back up as if he had been shot. Craig could see the fear mixed with resignation on his face as he struggled to continue.

"And I know what those 30 minutes could cost me."

"Just tell me, John Paul."

Knowing there was only one way he could do this, John Paul let himself disappear. He found that place deep inside that had become his refuge and he locked himself away. Trying to be detached, emotionless he poured out his shame. "We went back in his car. He told me to unfasten my shirt, undo the top button of my jeans. He said he wanted to look at me." John Paul held his head high, his body tense. The rapid pulse beating at the side of his neck drew Craig eyes. "Is that what you wanted to hear, Craig? I didn't know him, had never seen him before...and he made me feel like a fucking whore, sat there in his car as his eyes raked over me." Staring sightlessly ahead, he pulled further back into himself. "When we got to his flat, he slammed me against the wall and his mouth was everywhere, on my neck, my chest, my stomach. And I remember looking out the window over the top of his head, so pissed I could hardly stand, with a man in front of me who's name I never even got, and I saw it was snowing. I just remember thinking it was so fucking beautiful."

Craig wanted to tell him to stop, to block out the images his words were creating but he couldn't. He just stared at him, as if he were a beautiful stranger, his heart already missing the man he knew.

"Anyway he used my distraction well. By the time I was finally refocused, his shirt was gone and he was trying to get my hand inside the front of his jeans. Mine had already been pushed down past my hips and his other hand was cupping me through my boxer shorts. I felt nothing...which was what I wanted , right?" He began to shake, soft ripples that were tearing at something inside him. Desperately he tried not to feel. "And then he looked up at me...and you know what I saw in his eyes..." He knew he was crying, knew that the place inside where he holding himself was breaking apart. "...contempt, lust...maybe even a little pity...and...even worse, he wasn't you... and without you...I couldn't find me." Suddenly he was back there in that seedy room, seeing himself, half naked, being groped...and he could hear broken sobs, not realising they were his own as the words kept pouring from him, unstoppable. "And as he forced my hand to touch him I knew...I knew losing myself wasn't worth the cost of losing you. So I pushed him off and ran." Haunted eyes slammed into Craig's "You know what he called me as I left...a cock teasing faggot... and I laughed...I fucking laughed in his face because that one word gave me back a little bit of us...It wasn't his voice calling me that, it was yours... and I fucking clung to it like I'd never held onto anything before, pathetic huh?"

"John Paul." Saying his name, seemed to free something inside of Craig, as something reconnected, slammed into him so hard it left him reeling. He began to move instictively to the place he knew he needed to be.

"I was drunk then, Craig...but I'm not drunk now and I can feel him, his hands, his mouth...his breath...And I can't make it go away..."He stared at Craig, lost. "I'm so so sorry."

Craig got off the bed and slowly walked towards him. "Where can you feel him, John Paul?" When he got no answer he bent his head to the warm skin of his neck. "Here?" The body in front of him went tense as he kissed softly along the line of his collar bone. "Or here?" His mouth moved lower skimming over his chest, making his breath catch. "Or maybe here?" This time he let his lips and tongue leave a warm trail across the pale skin of his stomach as he knelt in front of him trying to erase every touch that went before.

"Craig, don't...I..." John Paul's tears made the dark head at his waist seemed blurred, slightly out of focus. His hand hovered, wanting so badly to touch the strands of hair, to bury his fingers in their silky softness and hold him close...but he didn't deserve to, he didn't deserve this!

"And where did he touch you, baby...here?" Craig lifted his eyes to the tear swamped ones looking down a him as if they were afraid he would disappear. Never letting his gaze waver, he deftly tugged at the button of John Paul's jeans, before opening them fully so his hand could slip inside to gently find and offer comfort. Keeping his hand in place, he slowly got to his feet. Without a word he reached for John Paul's hand and brought it to his own partially hard cock. Sensing him following the movement of their joined hands, Craig gently wrapped both their fingers around his erection. "Do you feel him there now, McQueen, or is it me you feel?" Hearing the shuddering breath in response, he Leaned forward to bring their foreheads closer together. "Look at me, John Paul." He knew they were both crying but he didn't care. "John Paul...look at me" As if in slow motion, heartbreakingly blue eyes lifted to meet his own and it was Craig's turn to be breathless.

"What do you see in my eyes?"

Hands still wrapped intimately around each other, heads touching, lost in each others eyes, John Paul stepped away from safety, gave himself up...gave himself away.

"I see me..." His voice became stronger as he watched a smile spread across Craig's face. "I see me, surrounded by you..." Suddenly he was grinning too. "Oh God Craig, in your eyes... I see us."


	5. Chapter 6

This chapter has been a long time coming and an absolute nightmare to write and I honestly don't know if it works. Thank you for all those who encouraged by leaving comments. Hope it isn't a disappointment because I think I lost the will to live after the 3rd rewrite.

**Chapter 6**

Walking over to the open bedroom door, Craig leaned his head against the frame, watching in amused silence as John Paul fought his way into a pair of tight fitting black jeans. As he pulled them over his hips, Craig's amusement faded into a softly indrawn breath. Unconsciously seductive, John Paul wiggled as he tried to master the stiff, unforgiving material before the button was finally secured, displaying his arse to perfection. Not wanting to make his presence know yet, Craig forced himself to remain still, his eyes possessive as they moved further up to take in the beauty of John Paul's bare torso. The contrast between the pale white of his skin against the stark blackness of the denim was as sexy as hell, and Craig could feel a familiar heat coursing through his veins. Trying to fight the urge to go and rip the damn trousers back off again he could only stare mesmerised as a black shirt was shrugged into. Jesus, he was so fucking graceful at times, just the simple act of getting dressed was an art form in itself that left Craig hard and desperately craving more. Still captivated, his eyes followed slender fingers as they began moving up the front of the shirt, fastening it, until with a final tug it sat in place. Almost done, John Paul then smoothed his hands down over the soft cotton before finally checking his appearance in the mirror; twisting slightly to make sure he looked just as good from the back as from the front. Giving himself a satisfied smile, he turned, his eyes deliberately slamming straight into Craig's.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Shit, so much for not being noticed. Stepping more fully into the room, Craig blew him a mock kiss, loving the dark look he got in return. " "I can't help it if you're so pretty I can't take my eyes off of you, besides, the amount of time you just spent preening and posturing, I think it was you enjoying yourself...Mercedes and Carmel have nothing on you!"

The muttered, "Fuck off," had Craig fighting to hide his grin, especially when it was accompanied by John Paul blushing a telling shade of red. Following him over towards the bed, Craig sprawled next to him on the mattress, as he watched him pull on his shoes. "Hey, don't be embarrassed...if I had an ass like yours I'd be staring at it in the mirror too!"

Sensing the blatant perusal of his backside, John Paul turned, trying to keep his face serious. Deliberately, he reached out to flip Craig fully onto his back before straddling him, pinning his hips with the weight of his body. His eyes narrowed in pretend threat as he saw laughter mixed with desire in the brown depths looking back at him. Leaning closer he let his voice come out in a low, husky growl. "And if I had a mouth as 'pretty' as yours I damn well wouldn't be wasting it on smart arse comments." Letting his thumb follow the contour of Craig's bottom lip, he continued to stare down until Craig breathed in unsteadily. Giving him a satisfied smile, he made him wait before gifting him with a quick, hard kiss before withdrawing.

Standing back up, now it was his turn to let his eyes roam Craig's body, meaningfully raising his eyebrows in a taunting gesture as his gaze settled on the telling outline of his erection. Hearing a soft gasp, he reluctantly dragged his gaze back to Craig's face. Seeing the pleading look there had him desperately trying to ignore his own stab of desire. Suddenly he hated the fact he had to leave for work, hating even more that he would be leaving alone. Swallowing hard, he grabbed his jacket, slipping his arms slowly into the sleeves, trying to ignore his own body's urges. Still, the sight of Craig on the bed in front of him, totally there for the taking, mouth enticingly open as he tried to draw air into his lungs, had his cock aching desperately. For a moment he wavered before with a resigned sigh he held out a hand to pull Craig to his feet.

As they stood, slightly breathless, John Paul could no longer hold in the words that had been hovering between them all night. "Come with me?" There was an intensity to them that belied their simplicity.

Craig sighed. "John Paul...don't." His voice was quiet.

"Don't what, Craig? Spoil the illusion that everything between us is fine?" Seeing Craig's eyes narrow, clearly warning him not to push it, John Paul dipped his own head a little, hiding his face. Always it came back to this, same question, same answer. Feeling guilty for spoiling the mood, but unable to leave it, he tried a different approach. "It's just that you've not been to the club since I...well since...you got back." He shifted nervously, his eyes finally lifting, beseeching. "I just miss you being there."

Feeling his irritation slip away as quickly as it had arrived, Craig reached out his hands to hold on to John Paul's hips. "I know but not tonight, yeah?" Wishing John Paul could see that this was just as difficult for him, he pulled him in closer for a brief hug before reluctantly letting him go again. "We'll sort it. It's just we both need to do it our own way, in our own time." Seeing John Paul was about to speak again, he placed a gentle finger on his lips before he turned him round, pushing him firmly into the main living area. "Now go for God's sake, before you're late and they fire your stubborn ass?"

Feeling defeated, John Paul reached for his bag as he was propelled forwards. "I'm going...But if you change your mind...?"

"I won't..." Craig followed him to the door, holding it open. Their eyes met as if both were desperate to communicate something that words couldn't express."Come here you." Craig reached out a hand to grasp the other's neck, bringing him close so that they could leisurely explore the warmth of each other's mouths. The gentleness was compelling but hearing a soft telling moan made Craig stifle a smile. Needing to make things right between them before he could let him go, wanting to wipe away the tension that the simple request had caused, he let his other hand move lower to caress John Paul's cock. Thinking of how he'd been made to squirm on the bed, he fondled him shamelessly before giving him a teasing squeeze as he finally stepped away, plastering an innocent expression on his face. "...but I'll wait up I promise."

"Shit." The desperate, half groan made Craig laugh out loud.

"Just go will you, you dork." With an almost petulant look, John Paul backed away down the hallway towards the communal lift. "Oh and McQueen..." The words made him pause, his stance slightly wary, as he saw the calculated look on Craig's face. Watching helplessly, he held his breath, as brown eyes deliberately ran up and down his body before coming to rest on his groin, where the definite outline of his straining cock was shown off to perfection by the tightness of his jeans. Craig's smile was pure satisfaction "Don't be late!"

Feeling himself harden even more, John Paul tried to speak but could only flounder helplessly as no words came. Finally, he had to be content with adjusting himself, so that his state of arousal wasn't quite so noticeable. As he stepped into the lift his heartfelt ' You bastard' floated back to where Craig stood.

Laughing again, Craig waited until the lift doors closed before reluctantly walking back into the flat. Throwing himself down on the sofa his laughter faded, changing to frustration, as the realisation hit that he was once more stuck here by himself, on a Friday night, with a raging hard on and only his hand for company. This was getting ridiculous.

The hot, heavy beat of the music dominated, as it subconsciously crept into the bloodstream and pulsated along veins already pumping wildly with a mixture of adrenaline and alcohol. It set the mood, ensnaring the willing to fall into its intoxicating rhythm, as bodies were given over to its command. And John Paul loved it. He loved being in control of the crowds. He loved being able to seduce from a distance and dictate the atmosphere. He also loved the freedom and escape that music gave him. It was his release...and as he let himself soar he took those lucky enough to be in the club on any given night with him.

Tonight was different though. Working the decks, John Paul only kept half an eye on the gyrating masses in front of him, assessing automatically what they needed...but he was distracted, for once, the music was white noise in his head, leaving him firmly grounded in reality instead of allowing him to take flight.

It had been a nearly two months since Craig had returned and he'd confessed. That night had changed them both. It had stripped away everything, leaving them both utterly exposed and achingly vulnerable. But amidst the wreckage the one thing that remained intact was their love for each other and its strength brought them back together. But John Paul wasn't naive, he knew his actions had damaged them and that in life there was always a price to pay. Hell he should know he was a McQueen; his whole family were experts in having to clean up after their mistakes. But some mistakes were harder than others to put right.

Tiredly, he glanced down at his watch, 1.05 am...he still had about an hour of his live set to go before he could leave, his shift done for the night. Unable to help himself his eyes swung once more to the door, hoping despite everything to see a familiar brown head amongst the crowd but already knowing he wouldn't. Idly he allowed his gaze to drift towards the bar, telling himself he was stupid to feel disappointed. It was too soon...the hurt he had caused was still too raw. Shaking his head at his own frustration, he cursed his own stupidity. He'd always wanted to be the one person Craig could totally rely on to be true to him, especially knowing about his history with previous relationships, but he'd screwed that up big time and now he was here feeling sorry for himself. He was pathetic. Hating himself, hating what he'd done, he plastered an empty smile on his face and turned back to his music.

Feeling restless, Craig idly flicked through the endless channels, knowing that his heart wasn't really into watching anything. Finally giving up he threw the remote down on the sofa, his thoughts a swirling mess of confused indecision. He fucking hated being stuck here but somehow him going to the club with John Paul had become a big issue between them. They were both too stubborn that was the problem. He knew John Paul wanted him there to prove something to him, but he had something to prove too. Flipping over onto his stomach, Craig buried his face into the cushion beneath him and moaned softly. And what they both wanted to prove to the other sat like a barrier between them, a stupid five letter word, screwing with both their heads.

Trust!

God he hated that word. What made it worse was that John Paul knew of every insecurity and hang-up he had in relation to it. He knew in detail how he'd felt when people had let him down, knew of every screwed up emotion he'd experienced. He even got Craig's paranoia when it came to relationships. Craig had shared his feelings with him about his dad. He'd told him about Natalie. He even understood the scars Darlene had left behind, how the lessons he'd learned from her stayed with him even today. But John Paul knowing was now working against them, because the bloody idiot was using it to crucify himself with. He'd now added himself to the list of people who had hurt him, unable to see how wrong he was, how different his actions were. He was more to Craig than just one mistaken, drunken night...but could he get that through his thick skull...could he hell!

Turning his head to one side, he looked around the room. The dark shadows he was surrounded by took him back to the night he'd returned from Scotland, and walked into the mess their lives had become. With a wistful smile he let his gaze go to the window. Almost he could see John Paul stood there, that damn bottle grasped tightly in his hand as he tried to escape a reality he didn't want to face by drowning himself in alcohol. For a moment the smile reached his eyes. There was no way after all they'd been through that he was going to let that happen. Being possessive and bloody minded had its advantages at times.

But that night had tested them both. It had brought other truths with it that had shaken their faith in what they had, what they were. John Paul had crossed a line that in his pain had become blurred and in that moment something between them had shifted. Trust. Breathing in slowly he allowed the word to brush across his thoughts once more. The problem with it was, once it was damaged it was so hard to put the pieces of it back together. It was like a jigsaw puzzle that no longer fit to make the image you wanted...instead the picture was sort of distorted, slightly warped. He understood this because he'd been there...but this time it was John Paul who struggled with it, believing he no longer had any right to it.

Turning back over he glaring at the ceiling. But it didn't seem to matter whose problem it was, it still left him stuck here...alone! His mind drifted for a moment, picturing John Paul at the club, imagining the heavy, sultry heat that always had him opening his shirt in the way that he knew drove Craig mad. He could see in his mind those looks he would send his way, the mixture of soft intimate smiles that made him think he was the only one in the room... and the darker intense ones that made him wish he was. Fuck. His body started to respond again and his reasons for why he was putting himself though this suddenly seemed slightly less important. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way.

Needing inspiration, he stood up without any real purpose and walked over to lean his head against the cool glass of the window, letting his eyes search the dark, inky blackness of the Dublin skyline. The sky looked empty. He always thought it kind of sad how easily the stars got lost behind the false lights of the city. The cold stillness of the apartent tugged at his heart. It wasn't just the stars that got lost sometimes. That was something else John Paul didn't get. Craig knew exactly how seductive it was to try to make yourself disappear but whereas as John Paul had hidden behind a bottle of spirits Craig had chosen a different route. He'd become lost a few years ago beneath a cocky swagger. Jesus before he'd known John Paul he'd worn it like a suit of armour, with his biting sarcasm the weapon he used to shield himself. God no wonder he'd had no mates. Well until there was him!

This time when he thought of John Paul, he saw the boy he knew back then, the boy who'd seen beneath all of his crap, who had smiled gently at his bravado and bluster...who somehow had found, with no real effort, the real person he'd hidden so carefully away. And instead of stripping away his armour he'd subtly added himself to it, becoming as much of a protector of his wounded interior, as he himself was. He'd seemed to smile at the world as if he knew something it didn't, as if he was in on this big secret. And in some ways he was. He got Craig like nobody else because he was the only one that bothered to see him.

Craig suddenly laughed...and the idiot thought he was like all the others who'd screwed him over! He had no idea of how different he was.

Fuck he missed him sometimes, that young boy who had made knowing him his very own specialist subject. When it came to understanding how he worked, John Paul just seemed to have all the answers that mattered, displaying such a naive innocence and confidence in what they'd had that Craig couldn't help but believe too, even when things had become difficult... even when John Paul had fallen in love with him. Craig sighed, a gentle look in his eyes.

Talk about life changing moments. The bastard had knocked his world right off its axis and their messed up feelings, screwed them both up. Craig grinned at his faint reflection in the glass. Stupid bloody McQueens, always having to go after what they wanted. His grin grew wider...ah but fuck...being wanted by John Paul was the best damn feeling ever, even if he'd been too stubborn to admit it at the time! But he'd got there eventually...and then everything really had come crashing down around them. And he'd learned that he could be a bastard too, that he could lie and cheat and betray trust with the best of them.

Jesus, their love had been selfish and destructive, but there was also a purity at its centre that they somehow held on to. They just loved, no matter what, it was that simple...despite lies, engagements and heartbreaking goodbyes, they just seemed to survive and they still survived.

And even now, despite everything...that purity remained...but the sad thing was John Paul couldn't see it, couldn't accept it. That was his weakness, that he couldn't see himself through Craig's eyes. What he'd done a few weeks ago had hurt, Craig couldn't deny that. It had almost killed him... clawed at all his old insecurities, ripped away at his insides. And yet somehow what really mattered remained intact, secure. He was the only one in Craig's life who had stepped back from the brink of betrayal for the love of him. He'd been at his lowest point and he'd stood at a crossroads and took the road back to where he was.

But the fall out was still haunting them. John Paul had wanted to give up his job, his music, thinking Craig would always doubt his time spent at the club, knowing what he had allowed to happen there. When Craig had refused to let that happen he'd become obsessed with Craig going with him every night he worked, not wanting him to think he was flirting with other men, not wanting there to be any doubt between them. He couldn't see the pressure he was putting on them both. And when Craig refused again, he saw it as confirmation of the destruction he'd caused. He didn't get that his refusal was for the opposite reason. Craig just didn't know how to convince him, that by staying away he was telling him something he needed to know...but fuck at times he was more obtuse than Craig was. To go into that club every night, to sit watching him...would be damaging to them both.

So instead they both circled round the issue, both unhappy.

God what he wouldn't give for just one night when they could let go of the baggage they carried, just one night when they weren't forever weighed down with endless problems. His shoulders slumped slightly. There was a lot to be said sometimes for having no history. Bringing his hand up he massaged the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his muscles. No history...some bloody hope! Suddenly a slow smile settled on his lips, widening to a grin as possibilities swamped him. Maybe there was another way after all.

John Paul was brought out of his pensive mood as a body pressed into his side, forced close by the lack of space behind the decks. Looking over he couldn't help but respond to the grinning face of Matt, a young student who helped out behind the bar on the weekend. His smile was a bit addictive and despite his melancholy John Paul found himself grinning back as a beer was passed over to him.

"Hey, thanks..." Because of the noise he had to lean towards Matt's ear to make himself heard. "What did I do to deserve this, management don't usually look after me this well?" His head dipped even further to catch the reply.

"Damn right...compliments of the guy at the bar." Seeing John Paul's eyes widen, Matt jokingly patted his chest. "Might be your lucky night, mate."

Hardly aware of Matt anymore, his eyes swept the bar and when he saw who the drink was from his world stilled. Unable to look away he gave a sickly half smile of thanks to the boy who stood next to him, only now noticing how close they were to each other. Stepping back into his own space, wanting to put distance between them he waited for Matt to leave. Taking a deep breath, he nervously ran his fingers over his chest, where the memory of Matt's touch seemed to burn a brand on the bare skin. Fuck. His eyes were still locked with those of the man who leaned casually against the bar. The lack of any acknowledgement or any real recognition in his eyes made John Paul nervous, especially when he saw the deliberate way he was looking at his open shirt that displayed the taut muscles beneath. The eyes travelled over him as if he were slowly stripping the remaining material away from the rest of his body. This perusal had no warmth, there was a detachment to it and John Paul cursed the fact that somewhere deep inside he was responding to it.

Automatically, he lifted the bottle of beer, suddenly needing something to steady his shaking limbs. Swallowing down the ice cold liquid, he almost choked as he noticed the raised eyebrows that met his actions, before a matching bottle was slowly lifted in his direction in a mocking salute. Then knowing he had John Paul's full attention the bottle was lifted further, lips sliding slowly, suggestively over its rim. Shit. Almost John Paul missed the feed into the next track. Cursing he dragged his concentration back to the music but all the while he was aware of eyes burning into him. He could feel himself growing hard.

Finally, his shift came to an end. Slightly wary, he made his way through the swell of bodies, knowing he was still being watched. God he couldn't believe how nervous he felt. He could still see in his mind how close Matt had stood to him, how he had leaned into him, how his hand had seemed to caress his chest...how something totally innocent could look so fucking incriminating. Not able to put it off any longer he reached the bar, to stand next to the man who had him so unsettled. As he went to speak a finger was lifted and placed against his lips, effectively cutting off his words.

"Shhhhh." John Paul could only stare into eyes that coolly gave him nothing. He swallowed hard trying to make sense of what was happening. "Here, I thought you looked like you might need another."

A fresh beer was slid over to him. As he reached for it he couldn't help but notice the cool way his body was being looked over. Fighting the heat that was flooding his face, he desperately took a hard gulp of lager, only to almost spit it out as a hand reached out to cup his balls. Wildly his eyes swept around, praying no-one was looking.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hating the panic that he could hear in his voice he tried to push the invading hand away.

"What's the matter scared your boyfriend might get jealous?"

Shock coursed through John Paul's body. "My...my boyfriend?"

"You do have one right? I mean someone as cute as you sure as hell can't be single? The predatory way he was being appraised had John Paul blushing. "Must be pretty trusting to let you out alone looking like that?" For a split second there was a blaze of heat in the eyes that slammed into his own before lids half lowered to hide their emotion again. "By the way if no-one's ever told you before you look fucking hot up there doing your stuff." This time, the hand that gripped him went straight to his ass, making John Paul yelp. "But wherever he is, his loss is my gain."

These last words were whispered so close to John Paul's ear he could feel the softness of the breath that accompanied them brush against his skin. He was drowning and he had no idea where safety was. He desperately tried to gather his scattered thoughts, to make sense of what the fuck was going on. He took a determined breath and opened his mouth.

The sharp nip to his ear lobe and the husky "So, what do you say...your place or mine?" had him closing it again as the question floored him. Even worse was what the tongue dipping seductively in and out of his ear was doing to him. He felt his whole body shudder and he groaned in mortification at the soft chuckle that vibrated against his neck. "You coming?"

Almost groaning at the not so innocent question, John Paul looked down between himself and the bar, knowing damn well what he was going to see. His groin ached as his erection strained against the front of his jeans, totally obvious. The fact that his arse was still being possessively caressed wasn't helping. His brain was trying helplessly to catch up with what was happening here but his cock was talking louder leaving him feeling weak and confused. "I can't go...I..." He looked up and nearly died at the taunting amusement that sat on the face in front of him, a face he felt he hardly knew. He was fucking loving the state he had him in.

"You better stay close behind me then as we leave, unless you want that pretty cock of yours on display for everyone to see."

John Paul's gasp was more seen than heard as he was unceremoniously tugged away from the bar and through the milling crowd to the entrance of the club.

"You bastard."

"So you keep telling me...faggot."

And suddenly confused or not John Paul smiled. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Right now I have no bloody idea," the look that was thrown his way made John Paul's legs turn to jelly as he was reeled in, so that the next words were for him alone, "but we're sure as hell going to have fun finding out."


	6. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

His head reeling from the suggestive comments that had been thrown his way, and still not quite sure exactly how he'd been outmanoeuvred so fast, John Paul found himself dragged outside, where finally the cold air brought him to his senses. Yanking his arm free he took a deep, calming breath.

"I can't just go...my jacket, my bag...they're still back there...I have to..."

"Screw them, they'll be fine, you can pick them up tomorrow."

With no warning, John Paul was slammed back against the wall of the club, his mouth taken in a scorching kiss that stole his breath. Heat crawled through his body and the shiver that raced through him had nothing to do with the low temperature. As his mouth was released, he was shocked to feel fingers trailing teasingly over the taut, exposed skin of his stomach before leaving their conquest to determinedly fasten up the buttons of his still gaping shirt. Seeing John Paul's confusion his tormentor laughed, the warmth of his breath a painful delight as it seared cold skin. Job finished, once more John Paul was taken by the hand and he could do nothing but follow mutely as he was led purposefully across the almost deserted street to where iron railings overlooked the River Liffey.

Feeling totally helpless, he allowed himself to be pulled further along the pavement, eventually being brought to a halt beneath the sprawling branches of a tree, its protective shadows almost completely hiding them from the road beyond. By this point he was beyond questioning anything they did, especially as his cock was still rock hard and his thoughts were totally scattered from the possessive way his mouth had just been taken. Bemused he lifted his fingers to brush the tender skin of his lips, before almost shyly raising his eyes to meet those of the man who had just turned him into a shuddering wreck. He shivered again at the enigmatic look he found there.

"Shit, will you stop that?" At John Paul's confused glance a hand was waved towards the thumb that he was still subconsciously rubbing against his swollen bottom lip. "That is unless you want me to take you right here and now?"

Seeing the seriousness in the other's expression, John Paul dropped the offending digit quickly, causing soft laughter to erupt out of the mouth that had caused all of the problems in the first place. He threw back a tentative smile of his own even as his face heated in a soft blush. Watching warily, he saw the other move to sit casually on the back rest of a street bench that was almost lost in the darkness. Even when he was still, there was sensuality to his body that made John Paul restless, made him want to be closer. He couldn't stop his eyes from appreciating his beauty, as he sat, legs apart, leaning forward slightly so his arms could rest on his knees, hands dangling casually between his lean thighs. Swallowing with difficulty, he knew that if he just let his gaze drift a little further...that if he just followed the line of those lean thighs a fraction higher...

"So tell me about him?"

The voice was low, seductive...and brought John Paul's attention crashing back to the mouth that had so intimately plundered his own. Struggling to breath, he tried to makes sense of what had been asked. "What?"

Wicked amusement shone from dark eyes, as if he knew exactly where John Paul's wayward thoughts were at. "Tell me about this boyfriend of yours...I want to know what he's like...apart from being a fucking moron for letting you out alone, that is?"

The sultry grin that accompanied the words made John Paul ache in places he didn't know he had. "Hmmm well to start with maybe moron is slightly harsh." The choking sound that met his reply made John Paul bite his lip to hide his own smile, before he felt himself growing more thoughtful. God, how did he answer this? Looking down he concentrated his attention on the floor. "He's beautiful." He risked a quick glance up under his lashes, pleased to see a stain of colour on the other's face that even the darkness couldn't mask. Encouraged he continued. "And he's smart...most of the time...except when he gets these half cocked ideas and schemes in his head that never work and usually end up crashing down around him."

The choked sound came again, quickly disguised as a cough. John Paul kept his head down, fighting a fluttering in his chest. "He's argumentative and always thinks he's right...and he's the biggest pain in the arse I know." John Paul lifted his head slowly. "But I love him more than life...and right now I'm not sure I deserve him." The eyes in front of him held his own for what seemed an age, until John Paul almost forgot how to breathe. Finally he was released.

"You screwed up, huh?"

The question was softly sent and John Paul pushed his hands deep into his pockets as he shifted, turning his back, to stare sightlessly across the steadying calmness of the river. "Yeah...big time."

"And what...the asshole won't forgive you?"

Shooting a quick look over his shoulder, John Paul felt his mouth twitch, "A moron and an asshole...he's going to love you." Looking away again, he took a steadying breath. "Actually you're wrong...he forgave me. I guess I just don't get why?" Quietness settled between them. John Paul reached out to grasp the railings, leaning over slightly to watch the water drift slowly past. The soft slapping sound it made against the wall beneath him helping to sooth his racing heart. He sensed rather than saw movement as a pair of hands came to rest beside his own. Feeling him at his side, their shoulders almost touching, he sighed. "I don't get how he's handling what I did. The Craig Dean I thought I knew wouldn't be able to."

"You don't think he should have...forgiven you?" There was an edge to the question, a hint of steel mixed with a slither of hurt. "Do you see him as weak because he did?"

"Fucking hell, no!" John Paul twisted round slightly his expression almost angry as he stared at the face so close to his own. "I'd never think that...me and him...we're more than that." He stared hard into the distance feeling a little lost. "It's me I see as weak for putting him in this position." He shook his head slightly as if trying to regain focus. "It's just I know him...what he's been through. I know his insecurities. I know how jealous he gets...how possessive. And because of that I don't know how we move on from here."

The air around them seemed to still, background noises becoming even more distant, muted.

"Sounds to me like you're wallowing...were you always such a drama queen?"

John Paul recoiled as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "What the fuck...wallowing? You think I'm ..." His protest came to a stuttering halt as a hand teasingly reached out to ruffle his hair.

"You're so cute when you're pissed off, did anybody ever tell you that? I think I'd like to keep you around."

In disbelief, John Paul watched him lean forward until the tip of his nose was softly rubbing against his own. How the hell did you say angry at a jerk like that? Eyes narrowing suspiciously, John Paul, knew he had to up his own game here...he was being played somehow and he'd be damned if he knew where it was leading. But it was hard to think of any clever comebacks when even his damn nose was being seduced.

"Tell me about you?"

This time the question was so ridiculous that John Paul couldn't hold back his laughter. "Fuck off...I'm not standing her freezing my bollocks off telling you stuff that you..." A soft kiss stole the rest of his words. His lips, already parted could offer no resistance to the tongue that gently invaded. He could only groan wantonly as he was teased, tasted and slowly devoured.

Again before he could think straight, the question was repeated. "Tell me about you...through his eyes." The demand was breathed into him, almost smothered beneath a second taking of his mouth. "I want to see you as he does." This time the words drifted to him, finding their way through his drugged thoughts, as the lips caressing his, purposefully withdrew, leaving him feeling bereft.

"I can't...I don't know how he sees me." Still trying to figure out what this was all about, John Paul squirmed beneath the determined look he was given. Wanting just to sink back into the heat of the body that stood next to him, he looked longingly at the moist lips so close to his own.

"Yes you do...tell me."

Fuck. As he stood, undecided, a draft of air swirled around him making him shiver. Suddenly feeling the cold bite of the night against the thin cotton layer he wore, he wrapped his arms around himself protectively, as he tried to think of where to start...what to say. Did he really know how Craig saw him...had he ever known? Lost in his thoughts it took a moment to register the second pair of arms that gathered him close, pulling him back into the hardness of the body that had moved to stand behind him, back into the shared warmth of a coat that had been opened wide to include him.

Murmuring his appreciation, he felt himself melting. Shit, did the bastard never play fair! Loving the intimacy, the closeness, he hesitantly tried to find an answer...by going back to the beginning. "I guess he first saw me as just another McQueen." Not sure what else to say he forced himself to think more deeply about their first meeting. Unaware of the soft smile that played across his lips, he snuggled further into the arms holding him. "To be honest I think he resented me a little...resented me telling him what I thought, resented me trying to help him...I don't know...he was a prickly sod back then." Feeling the body he was pressed against tense slightly, he almost felt a smug sense of satisfaction. Maybe he wasn't the only one who was cute when his chains were being rattled!

"Jesus, were you two ever happy...makes me wonder why you bother?" The words came out disgruntled.

John Paul laughed, the sound a gentle flutter between them, as he sought to appease, his head turning slightly. "Ah but then we became friends." He saw the smile he was waiting for.

"Good friends?" One hand moved to slip beneath John Paul's shirt, fingers stroking the smooth contours they found there.

John Paul let his head fall back slightly to rest on the shoulder behind him as warm lips began to nuzzle his neck. His own slow smile coloured his reply. "Best friends."

"I bet you were a sweetheart back then?" The tone was teasing.

"Nah...Not me...He was the one with doe eyes and a pout to die for." The soft bite to the tender skin beneath his ear made him yelp but didn't stop the grin that graced his mouth. "He was so fucking gorgeous I lusted over him for months...while he just saw me as..." He paused as he searched to find the words he needed.

"Saw you as what, John Paul?"

It was the first time that he had called him by his name all night...and their eyes met for a moment. "I think...I think he saw me as..." John Paul closed his eyes and really tried to see himself back then as Craig might have seen him. "I think he saw me as someone who was unconditionally on his side...someone he could rely on."

"His safe haven?"

John Paul slowly opened his eyes. Lifting his head he let his gaze brush over the other's face. "Maybe." His reply was whispered, not quite hiding the shot of pain. He still wanted to be that person.

"And you begrudge him wanting to be that for you?" The question threw John Paul for a moment but he was given no time to dwell on it, even though he knew the words were important. He stored them away for later as he tried to refocus on what else was being said. "And then what happened...how did you go from best friends to where you are now?"

"How long have we got?"

The snort that met his answer had John Paul rolling his eyes. "I told him I loved him, does that answer your question?" He turned fully in his arms, leaning in until their foreheads were touching. "And before you bloody ask, I honestly don't know how he saw me then...but I knew how I saw him. I was seventeen and he was my world. My sun rose and set with him...it still does."

"And yet here you are in my arms." Their noses came together again, just seeming to fit, as both let their eyes drift closed.

"I know. What can I say...I'm sick and screwed up!"

"John Paul?" His name was almost a caress.

"Hmmm?" Warm breath feathered his cheek and something about this moment seemed suddenly precious.

"Did he love you back?"

John Paul slowly lifted heavy lids to find himself drowning in the dark depths that stared right back at him. "Eventually...but this was us...we didn't do things easily." He was shocked at the low, husky tone to his voice...but this was their history being laid out here, his and Craig's and he couldn't help but feel every word of it. "First we avoided, you know...tried to pretend nothing had changed. Then we kissed..." Again he paused to take a steadying breath. Almost he felt the past, Craig's lips on his own, that tentative first meeting of mouths. He sighed, a slow exhalation of air before forcing himself to move on with a wry, sheepish grin. "Errm, then came the fighting I guess, oh and the not speaking for weeks." John Paul's expression changed. "Well until I found someone else that is and then the real fun started." Seeing the narrowing eyes, John Paul teasingly kissed the nose beside his. "Like I already said...the moron as you so nicely called him, does possessive and jealous like nobody else." He gave him an innocent look. "You wanted to know how he saw me..." His voice dropped intimately. "He saw me as his."

The words sat between them, intensely seductive... full of a taunting heat, an almost painful truth.

"And you're still surprised he's determined to keep you now...someone that possessive?" John Paul felt his stomach muscles clench at the implied ownership and he found himself being pulled almost impossibly closer. His breath caught painfully as their hips collided, the heat of their erections combining to almost make him want to combust. "Do you really believe, McQueen, that he'd just let you go without a fight? Don't you think he still sees you as his...that maybe he always will?"

The questioning statement hit John Paul hard and he couldn't help himself, crashing his mouth down it was his turn to plunder, his turn to push...until the body he held was forced back against the rough bark of the tree. Now it was his tongue that raged the sweetest of battles, sweeping aside all resistance to taste, lick and savour before the need to breath forced a partial withdrawal. Lips almost touching, their gasps mingled.

"And the jealously?" John Paul couldn't tear his eyes away from the face so close to his own as he demanded his own answers.

"Ah you mean why isn't he following you about looking green round the gills?"

John Paul shifted his weight, his knees almost buckling as their groins once more brushed against each other. "Something like that yeah?" His words were almost a groan.

"You want me to go back in there in his place and slug Matt for you?"

"Fuck no." John Paul gave him a warning glare.

"Spoil sport!"

Hands moved to grip his arse, tilting his hard on even more intimately forward. Just as John Paul was deciding which would be more painful, to leave his aching cock where it was so securely nestled, or to try to retreat slightly to restore his sanity, he was once more floored by a shift in mood.

"Maybe this boyfriend of yours is stronger than you think." Eyes wide, John Paul could only stare helplessly. Every part of him seemed to be held captive by the man in front of him...and somehow he knew this was it...this was what tonight had all been leading to. "Maybe he genuinely knows you're sorry and he needs to move on. Maybe he's prepared to believe in you, like you once believed in him and... maybe, just maybe... this is more about you now and how committed you really are?" The voice was determined and utterly free of emotion. "So the real question it seems to me is, how strong are you, John Paul McQueen? He's forgiven you...now are you strong enough to forgive yourself?"

John Paul, breathed in anxiously, waiting for that sick feeling in his stomach to take over... he prepared himself for its onslaught, only to be surprised when nothing happened. Tentatively he began to reach to rub the back of his neck before realising there was no tension to dispel. His heart beat rapidly with a strange kind of freedom that he hadn't felt for a while. He could sense eyes on him, and he stared back. "Took you long enough to get to the point!"

"Just add patience to the list of my many attributes." Ignoring the sarcastic grunt that met his statement, the question was asked again. "So...are you strong enough?"

Fighting sudden tears, John Paul lowered his hands to find their familiar place at the other's waist. Squeezing softly he let love shine from him. "Never let it be said I can't match whatever Craig Dean does."

"Is that so?"

"Hmm...mmm."

"So you're going to break my heart and go back to him?" A finger came up to brush away the telling moisture beneath John Paul's eyes.

"I never left him...and something tells me your heart will be fine...besides resisting you is good for my soul." Making a mockery of his words, John Paul used his teeth to tug softly at a bottom lip that was pouting enticingly in front of him.

"Well before you get too righteous, I don't suppose you'd like to screw up one more time...with me? For old times sake?" The suggestiveness was backed up by a pathetic attempt at a wiggle of eyebrows.

Appreciating the attempt to lighten the atmosphere a little, John Paul gave his own lust filled look as he let his still tearful eyes wander freely before coming back deliberately to lips left swollen by his own kisses. "For you...I might be persuaded...just this once." Leaving the temptation of the other's mouth for a moment, John Paul found himself instead distracted by the seductive movement of the tautly stretched throat before him. Grinning a little at the rapid swallowing his perusal had caused, he reached out with his tongue and licked.

"Shit."

Loving this, loving them...John Paul gazed up. The look that met his own stunned him...took away all humour, shattered all pretence It stripped them completely, left them both totally exposed...both achingly open.

"I guess it all comes down to what I asked you earlier...your place or mine?" Words almost became meaningless, the real communication happening elsewhere.

"Does it really matter? I'm yours whenever...wherever."

His mouth was suddenly taken in a brief, hard kiss that shook him to the bottom of his soul. It asked for and gave everything. When it ended John Paul was left... standing alone, as the man who was his world began to walk away. Needing a minute to gather himself he could only stare after him, unable to move.

"Are you coming or not?"

John Paul gave the softest of smiles, but it came from deep within and it held all that he was. "I guess I have to...you never did tell me where you live. I can hardly seduce you if I don't know where to find you." Still he stayed... just waiting, hardly breathing. Nothing around them seemed to stir.

"You've always known, McQueen...You just click those pretty ruby slippers of yours three times and repeat there's no place like home...it'll get you to me every time."

And suddenly the world came alive, the river flowed, the branches shifted, the muted sounds of music reached his ears...and he breathed easily for the first time it seemed in months. Stepping forwards, he could only shake his head as he fought to contain the swell of emotion. "And you say I'm the gay one in this relationship? Next you'll be throwing rainbows at me." Loving the dark petulant look that he got in return, he continued walking until he reached the arm that was extended towards him. Lifting his own hand, he placed it securely in Craig's outstretched one and squeezed it tight.

And just like that...he was safely back... in Kansas.


End file.
